By: Mark Ambrose
Album Type: Full Length
Date Released: 27/03/2018
Label: Weird Truth Productions
“The Wayward and the Lost” may be the first album to induce lethal
sepsis, especially for those unprepared for the sheer annihilating depths of
the quartet’s funereal, occasionally sublime, brand of sludgy doom. For those who revel in plumbing the
nightmarish depths, this nihilistic plunge is just the trip you need.
“The
Wayward and the Lost” CD//DD
track listing
1. The City, A Mausoleum (My Tomb)
2. Liar’s Cross
3. The Wayward and the Lost
4. Savior-Nemesis-Redeemer
5. Satyr
The Review:
There was a period in my late teens where I’d
throw in my DVD of “Requiem for a Dream”
every week. Already cripplingly
depressed, there was something cathartic to what, until that point, was maybe
the most soul-crushing movie I could find (I hadn’t yet discovered Michael
Haneke, Lars Von Trier, or any other miserable Euro-directors). While I wish I was cool enough to have been
spinning truly nihilistic funeral doom, sludge, and black metal, I was probably
listening to early naughts emo or Nine Inch Nails or, if
I was feeling political, some CRASS. But maybe it’s for the best I didn’t have a
band like Beneath Oblivion to pull up after a late
night viewing of Jared Leto’s necrotic arm amputation – my vital organs may
have shut down out of sheer despair.
Through a blend of post-rock cinematic composition and death doom tone, Beneath Oblivion’s “The
Wayward and the Lost” is a painfully addictive listen for anyone craving a
nihilistic trudge through societal misery.
From the outset, Beneath Oblivion
wears their Godspeed You! Black Emperor inspiration on
their sleeves. The opening samples,
haunting evocations of modern industrial alienation, nearly overwhelm the
clean, twangy guitar chords and sparse percussion. But when the distorted assault kicks in,
beauty is quickly annihilated – lead vocalist Simpson’s wailing, spectral
vocals. While the sound may be post-apocalyptic,
the lyrical content is all too painfully situated in the present crises of
civilization: “I never believed, / In man
or saviors. / This world in decline, / The needle, the wasted.” Throughout the vacillations between
reverb-laden clean guitar breaks and fuzzy, gut churning chords, the throbbing
hum of Keith Messerle’s bass lines and trudging smash of Nate Bidwell’s
drumwork sound like the spastic heartbeat of a dying leviathan.
Occasionally, I wish I could get a little more
clarity when hearing the sinister, crackling sample work Allen Scott weaves
through “The Wayward and the Lost”. The inflections sound just right, but I’m
wondering if I’m missing out on some of the more interesting spots in “Liar’s Cross” or the monologue at the
heart of the death doom title track.
Which isn’t to say Beneath Oblivion buries
everything in distortion. The folky
guitar tones, subtle organ lines, and hypnotic background vocals of “Liar’s Cross” are all brilliant
counterpoints to the crackling malevolence at the heart of the song.
The closing track, “Satyr”, is a propulsive, cinematic opus on a record stacked with
epic, expansive compositions. Layered
with samples, countered guitar and bass harmonies, crackling static, and the
typically massive drum tone, the cumulative effect is nearly orchestral. But this isn’t some triumphant lift out of
darkness. Simpson instead spits out a
hate-filled eulogy for a damned race: our own.
“We, the futile, / Hand of man's
failures, / We, the worthless / Forgotten, the void / Of light, Of suffering.” These are lacerating condemnations that could
give you tetanus. As a final kiss-off,
he advises “Hold on- To your guns / To
your drugs / The end is near.” With
a final, painful sample of chugging exhaust and ambient industrial noise,
there’s little doubt that Beneath Oblivion’s
prophecy feels all but carved in stone. “The Wayward and the Lost” may be the
first album to induce lethal sepsis, especially for those unprepared for the
sheer annihilating depths of the quartet’s funereal, occasionally sublime,
brand of sludgy doom. For those who
revel in plumbing the nightmarish depths, this nihilistic plunge is just the
trip you need.
“The Wayward and the Lost” is available here